


Marco Polo

by koalathebear



Category: The Brave (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Missing Scene, Psychological Torture, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-02-05 10:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12793062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: Set just after 1.09 Desperate Times which was such a suspenseful and painful cliff hanger.  I've deliberately not included this fic in my ongoing ficThe Brave: Missing Scenes and Book Endsbecause I'm trying to keep as much to canon as possible in that one and this one worked better as a standalone fic.Aninterview with Natacha Karamwho plays Jaz pretty clearly indicates that Jaz is going to go through a very hard time following her capture in episode 1.09, so I decided to explore that a little.  Apologies for the brief descriptions of torture.Slightly updated on 22 December after seeingthis tweetfrom Dean Georgaris, indicating that Jaz is being subjected to white torture.





	1. Chapter 1

"One player is chosen as "It". This player closes his or her eyes and tries to find and tag the other players without the use of vision. The player who is "It" shouts "Marco" and the other players must respond by shouting "Polo", which "It" uses to try to find them. If a player is tagged, then that player becomes "It."  
\- Wikipedia: Rules of "Marco Polo"

The team is laughing in and around the hotel pool after their last mission. Preach has pulled himself out of the pool and is stretched out in the sun. Amir is lying beneath an umbrella reading Proust, a drink by his side. Dalton and Jaz are in the pool swimming laps rather earnestly, both doing their damndest to look like they are not trying to outdo one another while McG pisses off everyone by pushing Amir and Preach back into the pool. Amir flails comically as he tries to stop his book from falling into the water while Preach mutters darkly beneath his breath.

"Jeez McG - what are you? Five years old?" Dalton demands in equal measures of impatience and amusement as Preach topples into his swim lane and causes him to fall behind Jaz who reaches the end of the pool and holds her arms up in the air triumphantly with a smug grin on her face. "Next you're going to want us to play Marco Polo with you."

"What's that?" Amir asks curiously.

Jaz laughs in amusement while McG looks at him horror. "Dude. You've never played Marco Polo?"

"No, no no ...." Preach groans.

"Oh man … I know exactly where this is going ..." Dalton mutters beneath his breath as McG holds up his hand for silence.

"OK - no one leave the pool ... So the rules are simple, man... I'm going to be "it". I close my eyes. I call out "Marco" and then the rest of you have to say "Polo". I try to find you with my eyes closed - if I find you, then you're it."

"No way," Jaz protests.

"It sounds like it could be interesting," Amir remarks.

There's a lot of good-humoured splashing, swearing and laughter as McG assumes the role of "it" with great seriousness, concentrating hard to locate the whereabouts of his team-mates in the swimming pool. 

Half an hour goes by and they're still playing the childish game, with Amir laughing loudly as he manages to grab an offended Preach's arm when it's his turn to be "it".

"Supernatural speed and intuition," Amir preens.

"You heard him splash," McG contradicts. Both Amir and Preach look extremely affronted.

As afternoon becomes evening, it's just Dalton and Jaz left in the pool, the others having left to find something to eat. "Guys - I'm turning into a prune. I need food right about _now!_ " McG announces loudly.

Jaz grins at Dalton, her face lit up by the poolside lights that cut through the darkness. "So - race you?" she challenges him hopefully, always competitive and he grins, shaking his head. "Nuh-uh."

She laughs when he closes his eyes. "Marco," he calls out challengingly.

She moves through the water quietly. "Polo," she replies and watches as his head tilts in the direction of her voice and he starts to swim towards her smoothly.

"Marco."

"Polo," she counters, swimming out of reach and treading water in the deep end of the pool.

He swims unerringly towards her. "Marco."

"Polo," she counters and prepares to dive beneath the surface to hide from him but before she can move, Dalton lunges at her suddenly, seizing her around the waist, making her shriek with laughter.

"Gotcha!" he crows exultantly as if he's just beaten her in a race.

"How the hell - "

"It's possible you have a tell, Jaz," he tells her triumphantly, grinning down at her triumphantly, his arm still around her waist as they both tread water in the darkness, the dim lights casting shadows across their faces. 

Her pupils are dilated and filled with laughter and she reaches up to touch his cheek lightly for a moment, her eyes widening when he turns his head and allows his lips to brush across her fingertips. When she would move closer towards him, he releases her and swims away from her. "Your turn..."

"Come on, Top - " she starts to protest, rolling her eyes at him.

"Otherwise it's one-nil ..."

"Fine..." She closes her eyes. "Marco," she calls out. There's complete silence and she frowns.

"Polo." The sound is coming from the other side of the pool so she begins to swim towards the end of the pool, reaching out and finding nothing.

"Marco," she says again.

"Polo." She lunges towards the sound of his voice with a loud splash and scowls when she can hear his low and very amused chuckle and then there's silence again.

She concentrates harder, filtering out the sound of the noisy cicadas and the hotel guests inside at the bar. "Marco," she says very deliberately.

"Polo." The sound of his voice is only millimetres away from her and Jaz's eyes snap open in shock as she finds herself almost chest to chest with Dalton, his lips almost against hers.

"Shit. I must be losing my touch," she mutters and her lips cling to his for an infinitesimal sliver of a second before they both pull away from one another at the same time. It's not a moment too soon as the rest of the team come out of the hotel bearing food and drink.

"Come on Jaz ... Top ... get out of there before you both dissolve ...."

 

*

The water rushes over her head again and she gasps as hard, brutal hands pull her back out of the water and hold her above the tank.

"Again."

She's thrust into the tank head first and she holds her breath, gasping and choking as she is pulled out of the water. She slumps onto the polished white floor of her cell, her damp hair falling across her bleeding face. The bruises on her face and jaw ache … They've been beating the soles of her feet with thick cables and her feet are so swollen that she can't stand up anymore.

She tests her teeth with the tip of her tongue. Unbelievably, none of them are loose although she's almost certain her nose is broken. 

She's told them nothing and it infuriates Arthur who is impressed but clearly annoyed that a mere woman is defying him like this. 

"I'll give you to my guards when I'm finished," he has promised her. "I won't do it yet because fornication outside of marriage is a crime and I'd have to have you executed for that," he tells her with a smile. "And I'm not ready to say goodbye to such a beautiful woman yet."

Like the rest of the team, she's been taught how to withstand torture and as they beat, cut and threaten her, she drifts away. Far, far away from the white, windowless cell that smells of blood and fear. She thinks of Amir's sweet, self-deprecating smile. Preach's rueful looks. McG's terrible jokes. 

Most of all she thinks about Dalton and his changeable face, his crooked smiles and speaking eyes. She thinks of the wistful expression he gets when he comes close to crossing the line he knows he shouldn't cross.

As Arthur or one of his men backhands her face and asks her a question, Jaz hangs limply, feigning unconsciousness until they throw another bucket of ice cold water over her. "You know you'll die here," he tells her. "Your friends won't find you. If you tell me what I want to know, I might let you live. Maybe."

When she still says nothing, he pushes her to the ground in contempt and kicks her in the ribs. "No food for today," he tells his men before he walks out of the cell. "Leave her alone for a few hours."

The door slams shut and Jaz lies on the ground, her bruised cheek pressed to the cold, smooth, white floor. Her blood on the floor and her white clothing is the only splash of colour in the room. She closes her eyes.

"Polo," she whispers and allows herself to hope.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to write another chapter for this but decided I had to after seeing "Desperate Measures".

_While you were napping, I took the liberty of examining your body. These wounds are deep and old from a long time ago or maybe from when you were a young girl. What sort of an accident could cause this? Or maybe not an accident. What sort of a person would do that?_

She sits in the chair, head slumped back. The blood trickles down her face and she closes her eyes for a moment, the stinging pain intense and sharp.

_Don't you care about your team? Your team. They were caught trying to rescue you. And you were captured because of your own stupidity. And this fellow was killed because of it._

She stares at the photo. A man resembling Dalton slumped forwarded, clearly deceased. Her throat tightens sharply and the pain in her heart rivals the screaming physical pain.

_You have failed your team, and one is already dead. Save the rest by explaining your allegiances._

Arthur's voice is the most effective form of torture. Calm, malicious and sadistic. He has all the time in the world and he intends to use it.

"You're lying."

_Never would I have imagined that the questions I asked of you would be answered by your own government. Your country has forsaken you, outed you as an American spy. After all the torture, the hood, the knives, the gun, your people have done my work for me._

She doesn't believe him. She can't believe him and her dark eyes meet his, the defiance burning bright inside of her despite everything he's inflicted upon her.

"I'm going to make sure you beg for mercy before you die," he promises her grimly before giving the order for her to be dragged away.

*

Lying in the darkness of Hossein's truck, Jaz can feel her heartbeat start to finally settle after they smash through the checkpoint. They've made it. Somehow, they've survived.

Dalton's stretched out behind her and he reaches out and pulls her against his body. She stiffens for a moment… debating whether to resist and pull away … He goes still, giving her the choice and in that moment she makes her decision and relaxes against him, her body limp and quiescent.

His arm tightens around her … gently so as not to hurt her. 

Her mouth curves into a twisted smile and tears shimmer in her eyes. "You shouldn't have come for me …"

"You knew I would."

She closes her eyes for a moment. "Marco," she whispers so quietly that it's barely audible.

Dalton smooths the hair from the back of her neck and he presses his lips lightly against her warm skin. "Polo," he says softly. At that moment, chain of command is the last thing on his mind.


End file.
